“Is Captain Stuart an old friend of yours?” asked Beppo abruptly.
Lily hesitated. To her secret relief, he went on at once, without waiting for an answer: “The word friendship may mean so much or so little, my little cousin!”
“That is very true!” said Lily demurely.
“But there can be no such doubt about the word love!”
Her eyes dropped before her companion’s eager, searching, ardent gaze. Was this what M. Popeau had meant to warn her against?
The motor slowed down. They were now looking across the great green promontory which juts out of the blue sea to the left of Monte Carlo.
“I wish I could stay on a little longer,” said Beppo in a low voice. “What a cursed thing is money! Still, we poor mortals can’t do without it. So I shall go back to Rome and try to make what we call a lucky hit, eh? Then I shall come back, and perhaps stay up at La Solitude. Shall I be welcome, Lily?”
She looked up at him. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Of course you will be welcome, Beppo!”
As is almost invariably the case with a certain type of girl, Lily liked to mix the jam of flirtation with the powder of good advice, and she did feel that Beppo, with regard to his father and mother, was indeed very thoughtless and selfish. So she added, deliberately: “Your return will be welcome to me, and also——”
“Also?” he repeated eagerly. He tried to guess what she was going to say, but failed.